Fooled
by mysunandmystars
Summary: Sherlock Holmes decides that it is about time he returned to 221b Baker street, but what he finds will make wish he stayed away.


Sherlock climbed the stairs to his old flat, careful not to make any noise. He walked steadfastly towards the door and took a breath before swinging it open. As he looked in, the rays of the moonlight beamed in through the windows, he inhaled the familiar smell and let his eyes wander across the room. He noted that something wasn't right, there was new furniture and above all the apartment was _clean._I'm not talking just your normal clean, it was immaculate. Nothing was out of its place and what struck him as odd was that there was four of everything. Four clocks, four sofas, four magazines on the desk, four of _everything_. Since when did John have OCD? He had to remind himself that John might've moved flats and someone else would be staying here.

Sherlock didn't feel right; he was experiencing a feeling that was new to him, uncertainty. He took a few steps forward but decided that he should leave. It was foolish of him to come back; did he really expect John to have stayed in the same place where they had lived together? He turned on his heel sharply and was just leaving when- "Sherlock."

He gasped. It was him, it was John, his body froze and even though he had planned this moment out hundreds of times, he didn't know what to do. But what surprised him the most was that the expression of his voice, he sounded bored, almost as if he expected him. His name rolled of his tongue so lazily, and he said his name as if they were merely two syllables strung together and as if those two syllables didn't mean anything to him. His mind was racing, why did John have four of everything, why didn't he sound shocked, why did he stay in the flat surely, surely it would have reminded him too much of his dear friend?

Sherlock quickly collected his thoughts and very steadily said, "John." The silence that followed was thick and uncomfortable. At last Sherlock turned around and saw him, for the first time in 8 months; he saw John Watson and he held his breath. In his appearance John looked exactly the same. However it was his expression that bothered him, his arms were folded, his head cocked to the side and he oozed arrogance. Judging by his appearance Sherlock could immediately tell that John hadn't slept in days and had only eaten very little. This wasn't right, this wasn't John.

"Oh I've been expecting you Sherlock." There it was again, the boredom in his voice. Sherlock again didn't say anything, he assumed that John must've known of the trick he played, that was the only explanation as to be why he wasn't surprised to see him. John spoke again, "Funny, I thought you would've resisted longer, but looks like the human in you decided to come back." Sherlock was still trying to find excuses for John's behaviour, maybe he began to believe that he was a fake, after all that is what he led him to believe. "John, I know you're probably shocked and angry but let me explain-" John sniggered, Angry? Why on earth would I be angry?" A wave of relief swept over Sherlock, so John wasn't angry that was good news, but then he had sniggered, why? "I'm not angry Sherlock, to tell you the truth, I don't actually care." A menacing smile spread over Johns face.

Sherlock was utterly bewildered; none of this was making sense. "So tell me, why don't you care?" John said nothing but advanced towards him. This really wasn't right and he thought about leaving right then but he had grown too curious to go now.

"You look so stupid standing there, with that look on your face." John mimicked Sherlock's expression and laughed maniacally. "You didn't answer my question." Sherlock stepped backward and grew angry. Why was John doing this? Of course he hadn't expected things to go back to normal immediately, but this? This was ridiculous.

Sherlock straightened himself out and looked down at John. "I'm not dead, and you don't care. Why." He conveyed no emotion on his face and stared sternly into Johns eyes. And all of a sudden he was laughing, John Watson was laughing right in Sherlock's face. It died down after a few seconds and he said, "Afghanistan or Iraq. Do you remember that? Do you remember how amazed I was by your marvellous deductions? Although you didn't deduce well enough because you never figured out my secret." Sherlock scrutinized his expression. What secret? "Though surely you must know now." He added. His eyes met Sherlock's and a tantalizing smile began spreading across his face. "I can't believe it, you don't know." He snickered, "I've fooled the great Sherlock Holmes! Won't that be something to tell the grand kids." Anger swelled inside of him, how dare John call him a fool!? And what secret is he referring to?

"I can't believe you couldn't tell that I am a guiltless, narcissistic, neurotic-"

"No,"

"Psychopath." John finished.

And then the foreboding laughter began. John was now holding onto one of the sofas for support and was his laughter was ringing throughout the whole building.

But Sherlock ignored that, he ignored everything. Of course he would've known if John had been lying, he would've been able to tell within a split second. He was telling the truth, John Watson was a psychopath. But why didn't he pick it up before? Even now Sherlock couldn't pick up any previous psychopathic behaviour. The news felt like a stab in the chest, because that whole time, John had been lying. Everything he had said and done was fake. From the moment they met to the moments before Sherlock 'died'. It was a lie. Throughout their whole 'friendship' John was playing a game. It was all a game. A game, that Sherlock was imprudent enough to play.

Sherlock didn't trust himself to say the right thing so he said nothing. He was in total disbelief, he was surprised, angry and he was hurt. And he hated it. "Cold, harsh laughter rang throughout the room, John's laughter. "What you thought I was innocent John Watson, who was an army doctor? You thought I was naïve John Watson who believed everything you said? What you actually thought I was amazed by all your tricks? ." John was now right in front of Sherlock and the two of them stared each other down. Sherlock searched Johns eyes, he searched for some sort of emotion but there was nothing, nothing except the countenance of a maniac. John Watson was a psychopath and the great Sherlock Holmes had been fooled.

Sherlock broke the silence, "So you were with Moriarty the whole time." John took another step forward so that their toes were almost touching. "Moriarty?" he said with obvious distaste, "Yes well you could say we were in an alliance of sorts, but he knew nothing of my true nature." Sherlock stepped back.

When he returned he hoped to see John with Mrs Hudson, and when he walked in he expected John to be surprised, angry or excited or all three. He wanted to look into his eyes and see something, not only shock, anger or excitement, but something else. But alas, Sherlock returned to a maniac. This is precisely why he should've stayed alone. Because alone means no commitment, alone means no chance of betrayal.

He composed his rushing thoughts and spoke, "Goodbye John." "Oh no, you mustn't leave so soon, won't you stay for a cup of teeeeeea?" Johns voice echoed through the room, thick with mockery. Sherlock swiftly turned on his heel and exited the room for the last time, although he knew it wouldn't be the last time because John Watson was now his new enemy.

He heard Johns voice maliciously calling out to him, but he ignored him. He let the darkness conceal his shadow as he walked down the flight of stairs, he opened the door and the cool breeze of the night welcomed him. He slammed the door behind him and turned his back on 221 Baker street.


End file.
